


The Problems With Divine Interference

by Hymn



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: (look i was real tired when i wrote it i'm sorry), And Some Porn, Bad Porn, Comedy, F/M, Kidnapping, M/M, Mild Plot, Multi, Rescue Fic, Thanks, Violence, because i believe in overkill, believe it or not, but if i missed anything pls pls let me know so i can remedy it, fat joke, i tried to tag to the utmost, kh 1 canon compliant, kh 2 canon compliant, lesbian joke, mostly - Freeform, problematic language, this fic is actually comedy, use of slurs, with some feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-03
Updated: 2007-07-03
Packaged: 2019-05-07 13:40:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14672229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hymn/pseuds/Hymn
Summary: “Where’re your girl and your boy?” Phil cut in. “Why don’t you have back up?”“Gah,” Sora said, and laughed a little helplessly. “Relax, Phil! It’s just a standard recon mission, honestly. Jeez, you sound like Cid. He didn’t want me to go, either. It’s not like I’m alone! I’ve got Roxas with me, and he’s enough.”“He is you,” said Phil flatly. “It doesn’tcount.”(Spirits are missing from Halloweentown, Ares is the most obnoxious nephew,ever, Hades is playing games, and Sora is in trouble. Luckily, Kairi and Riku will always be there to save him.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> written for springkink
> 
> this is, in part, a gen story; but ultimately it's about how much Sora, Kairi, and Riku love each other, which is, you know, _a lot_.

Ares’ entrance was as bold as his very existence. It was a clatter of heavy, golden hooves, and the creak of leather and the clang of armor, as well as the lingering scream of war crows and the scent of bloodshed. Hades knew it instantly, and was automatically looking for a way out.

Ares spotted him immediately, of course. He slid off his warhorse with a landing that shook straight through Hades’ subterranean cave of a kingdom, and said, “Uncle.” 

Wincing, Hades collapsed dejectedly back into his throne, watching the other god with half-lidded eyes; the flames of his hair flickered and spat in agitation and nervousness, but stayed as calm a blue as Hades could make them. When he said, “Ares! How good of you to drop by,” it sounded like he was pleased, and he let that façade slide down over him, stretch a macabre grin over his face, and pull his tall body from his throne, up, not reluctant like what he really wanted to do was kill Ares, but, rather, like he was going to hug him in greeting, instead.

The fact that what Hades really wanted to do was to kill Ares – _and who wouldn’t?_ Hades thought behind his lying smile. _He’s an unmitigated_ prick – was only one unfulfilled dream amongst many. The fact that Ares probably would have taken off Hades’ arm was what stopped the god of death from giving him a literally rib-cracking hug.

Black eyes watched Hades from a glowing, tan face, and Hades bristled quietly that he had to look up at the young upstart, rather than down. Ares didn’t smile at him, but then, Ares rarely did. 

“Ares, Ares,” he said, all hospitality. “Would you like to sit? A drink? To recount your most recent tales of blood shed and undoubtedly macho valor?” Ares’ horse snorted, and stomped one massive hoof. It cleft the smooth, dark gray of Hades’ stone interior flooring, and Hades eyed it; said through gritted teeth, “We have a new lot of alfalfa out back, for your…fine animal.”

For a moment, Ares looked pleased, and then suspicious. He asked, “Is it another crossbreed with Deadly Nightshade?”

“No, of course not!” Hades smiled, and smiled, and smiled, and zapped a quick note to his lackeys to beware of rampaging monstrosity. “It’s Belladonna.”

“Oh, well in that case.” Ares slapped his warhorse on the flanks, and it reared, gave a scream, and raced off. Very minutely, Hades twitched with the need to take it apart limb by limb. “And now,” Ares said, “to business.”

“Ah.” Hades walked in a cold slither of his robes around his large table, dragging his knotted fingers over the edge lightly. He was looking at his playing board, though to Ares, incompetent that he was, it would merely have been a barren expanse of table. “I see. You’re all grown up now and have no free time to play with your favorite uncle, hm? Oh, fine, fine, if you insist. So go on, lad, tell me: what do you want?”

When Ares cracked a very faint smile, Hades knew he was in trouble. The other god rolled his massive, overly muscled shoulders; his armor clanged, and shone even in the dank light of the Underworld. Hades glared back at the bright. “But Uncle,” Ares said, “I do want to play. You owe me after killing my last horse, you know. Do you realize how hard it is to talk Hephaestus into making me those?”

Hades gave a vicious chuckle, and said, just low enough that he knew he wouldn’t quite be heard, “As hard as it makes you to bone his wife, I would imagine.”

Ares narrowed his eyes in ever-present suspicion and a little uncertain curiosity. “What was that?”

“Oh, nothing!” Hades waved his hand in the air distractedly. He leaned against his table with the other one, watching pieces shift; then he looked up at Ares, and smiled with sharp eyes, and coyly asked, “What makes you think I’ll play with you, nephew?”

Ares shrugged. “I’m bored.” 

At that, Hades stiffened in horror, and jerked his gaze back down at the table. Several pieces of his moved, now, because if there was one thing the world – and all the other gods – had to fear, it was a bored Ares. Hades’ hair flickered uncertainly, and he took deep breaths.

“What? Is Aphrodite busy?”

“Unfortunately,” Ares sulked. “We have a date in three weeks, and she said she needed to get ready for it. She takes forever to get ready.”

“Yes, yes,” Hades said dismissively, “Women always do. But what do you want me to do about it? It’s not very entertaining here, let me tell you.” Hades laughed, and his voice was a hiss, “Dim, dark, dank, full of a bunch of deadbeats – get it? Dead..oh, never mind, why am I asking you – and with horrible-”

“Dad’s always going off about you competing with his Coliseum. Hold a cup for me. With good contestants. Or, well,” he shrugged, and his smile was just a touch wider, a thin curve of blood lust. “I can always see how well the Underworld holds up in a war.”

Hades’ hair turned instantaneously red. “ _No_.”

“A cup it is, then.” Ares hadn’t moved from his point of entrance the entire time, but now the war god walked forward in a meandering, confident stride, with a dumb, haughty look on his face. He sat in Hades’ chair, and Hades nearly blew his top. Ares fixed him with a dark look. “Don’t disappoint me Uncle. I want to play, and I only play fun games.”

He whistled for his mangy beast, and then disappeared in a clamoring flash. The minute he was gone, Hades screamed. “PANIC. PAIN. GET IN HERE.”

There were two puffs of smoke, and then his best lackeys were cowering before him.

“Y-yes, H-”

Hades had them both by the throat, and his eyes reflected the furious snap and crackling snarl of his flaming hair. “His horse had BETTER NOT BE DEAD.” Pain and Panic wailed pathetically in his grip from the force of his anger. “This will NOT. HAPPEN. AGAIN.”

Furiously, he threw them down, and strode back to his table in a dramatic swirl of his robe. He stopped in front of his game layout, and took a deep breath, holding it until his flames calmed down to blue. Then he let it go, and smoothed his hands down his robes, shaking himself lightly. 

“All right, all right,” he muttered to himself. “You’re cool, man, you’re stone cold dead, you don’t have to let what that little bastard of a play boy said get to you. You just have to do this one little, small thing, and maybe not rip him apart and then mail him back to his father, nooooo. Bad idea.”

“H-hades,” Panic started timidly.

“Shut up,” Hades snapped. “Can’t you see I’m trying to convince myself? Bad idea!”

“B-but sir! Shouldn’t you, um, being trying to figure out how to get contestants strong enough to f-fight Ares in a cu-EEK.”

Hades blew on one smoking finger, not even bothering to look over where he’d just set Pain on fire. “Now, now, boys. Don’t you trust me?” The fire in his eyes cast his face in an unholy light; it caught his smile knife bright and threw him into even darker shadows. “I always have a plan. And this one? Oh, yes,” he chuckled, “It’ll be a real scream.”

*

In one particular circle of hell, the spirits have a motto that they have lived, died, and suffered by: _The road to hell is paved with good intentions_. Hades blew them kisses for the near-week he waited for his fish to catch his bait.

*

The Coliseum was up and running now, a large, shining thing, with towering spectator seats filled to the brim. Sora used his key to get through one of the side doors Hercules had shown him years ago, when that was the only way you could get in or out, thanks to the damage that had been done to it. Sora hadn’t been able to stop by and see it since they’d finished the repairs, so all he could do for several minutes was stop, and gaze in wonder. 

The Coliseum was, if possible, even bigger now, still made up of high marble walls, with lots of bronze vases, and Grecian columns, with beautiful statues of heroes and former contestants. A rendition of Sora sat somewhere near Hercules, and Sora still swelled with pride to think of it. The entrance he’d taken was just off the side of the contestants warm up arena, and he breathed a sigh of relief that no one had spotted him using a non-regulation entrance. 

Quickly he made his way through the arena, bypassing men dressed in ridiculous costumes of leather and fur, others with more blades than Sora was pretty certain they knew what to do with, and then past-

“Holy shit!” Sora stopped dead, neck straining up, eyes wide. He was gaping, and then he was pointing, as he said, “Do you _eat_ your opponents, or something? You’re _huge_!”

Several of the contestants around them coughed, and sidled discreetly away. The man who Sora’d picked out – who was, in fact, _colossal_ – stopped stretching, and looked down at him. It was a very, very long way down. 

“Excuse me,” the giant said, sounding fussy and insulted. “Are you talking to me? Are you- Did you just call me _fat_?”

“Er.” Sora swallowed, and looked around him; everybody’s back was turned, trying to stay out of it. “Um. No! Of course not! I called you really freaking ta-”

“Did you just call me a freak?” The massive man quivered with indignation, and Sora felt the floor roll slightly beneath him. His quiet, “Oh shit,” was drowned out by the giant wailing, “I was born this way! I can’t help it if I’m fat!”

“No, no,” Sora rushed to reassure him. “Jeez, I didn’t mean anything by it, honest! I don’t think you’re a freak. Um. I’m sure you’re just, uh, big boned?” By then, the arena was very, very quiet, as if everyone was holding his or her breath to see if the little guy got squished. Sora grinned up at the giant, and gave him a thumbs up. “I bet it’s a great advantage in a fight!”

From very high, there came the sound of sniffling. Sora’s eyes went very wide, and his face went very white. He _hated_ making people cry.

But, by then, a hero had come to save him. For such a little guy, Phil could out-shout just about anybody. “Don’t mind him,” he bellowed, stomping through the wall of contestants, to pat the giant on one big, beefy ankle. “He’s got a good heart, and he can fight with the best of them, but I think he lost his brain somewhere along the way.”

“Hey-!”

Phil turned on one cloven foot, and glared Sora into silence. “You, dumb butt, come with me. And apologize!”

“Er,” Sora scrubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry?”

The giant gave a dismissive sniff, and said, “Whatever,” before ignoring Sora quite haughtily. Sora shrugged, and followed Phil, who was now glowering at the wannabe heroes who had failed to come to Sora’s previous rescue, snapping things like, “And you call _that_ gallant?” and “So what if he wasn’t a maiden?” and “YOU BIG SISSIES.” 

Sora bit his lip on a snicker, and followed patiently behind, until they were out of the arena, into a corridor that led from the main entrance to the Coliseum. It was a different corridor from the spectator one, looping around to enter from the back. Phil drew him into an alcove, grabbed onto his shirt collar, and yanked him down to his level.

“Look, kid,” he gritted out, “That was a Titan. You _don’t_ comment on a Titan’s size, got that? It’s a touchy subject!”

“Er, right.”

“Jeez,” Phil continued, releasing Sora and almost sending him toppling over. “And I thought we didn’t have to worry about you anymore!”

“Eh,” Sora grinned, shrugging. “You know me, always getting into trouble.”

“It’s a wonder you’re still alive,” Phil sighed. “Just like Hercules, I swear, headstrong and without the common sense to go with it.” Sora laughed, delighted, and laced his fingers behind his neck; he waggled his eyebrows at Phil, and said, “You think I’m like Hercules?”

“Shove it, kid,” Phil griped, though he was grinning, too. “Hero is a revocable title. You sure you’ve still got what it takes?”

“Of course!” 

“Well, fine, fine.” Phil nodded. “I can see if I can squeeze you into the Cup, but it’s gonna-”

Which was ridiculously sweet of Phil, and told Sora more clearly than almost anything else how fond of him Phil was. Phil didn’t cut corners, and if you didn’t go through the long, legal way, then you didn’t get in at all – except, in very, very special cases. Sora felt all warm inside, and breathed in a happy sigh, before letting it out a touch dejectedly.

“Sorry, Phil,” he cut in. “But I’m afraid I’m here on business.” 

“Wha- Business?” Phil scowled at him. “First time back when we’re running properly and you’re here on business? Bah!” Nettled, Phil turned and started stalking through the cool corridor; the corridors were the only things that weren’t open to the bright sky, and Sora was as happy for the relief from the heat as he was saddened by the lack of bright – he’d be getting plenty of dim and dark soon enough.

“Aw, c’mon, Phil! You know I don’t mean it like that!” Sora dogged his heels. “I’m sorry, man, I’ve just been so busy, and you guys haven’t even been up _that_ long, come oooon. You should feel sorry for me! I’d much rather stay and hang out with you guys, but I’ve got to _work_.” For such a little guy, not only did Phil have large lungs, but also he had very quick strides. Sora cursed silently when he realized they were almost out of the corridor, and that if he didn’t convince Phil to stop before he went out to be judge and ref, then he was screwed. 

“Look, Phil,” he tried. “I don’t want to go face down Hades with you mad at me. Please? At least tell me how Meg and Herc and Pegasus are!”

Phil stopped, abruptly, and turned to glare at him. “They’re fine. Meg’s pregnant with another little spawn,” Sora perked up, delighted, and made a mental note that he definitely needed to stop by and see how she was doing, “and Herc and Pegasus are off saving the day, somewhere, I’m sure. Now what do you mean, _face down Hades_?”

“Er…well, not so much _face down_ as-”

“Where’re your girl and your boy?” Phil cut in. “Why don’t you have back up?”

“Gah,” Sora said, and laughed a little helplessly. “Relax, Phil! It’s just a standard recon mission, honestly. Jeez, you sound like Cid. He didn’t want me to go, either. It’s not like I’m alone! I’ve got Roxas with me, and he’s enough.”

“He is you,” said Phil flatly. “It doesn’t _count.”_

Sora rolled his eyes. “And Riku is on a mission for the King, and Kairi’s busy with some Princess work, so there’s, you know, me. And Jack is a friend,” Sora said, earnestly. He couldn’t help the worry that was sliding all through his eyes, because he couldn’t help the worry that clenched his stomach from being overwhelming. “Spirits are disappearing from Halloweentown, and we’ve managed to pin point it to the Underworld. And if I don’t do it,” Sora said gravely, “Then Jack is going to try. And I love Jack, and he might be the scariest Pumpkin King Halloweentown has ever known, but he’d be no match for Hades.”

“Hmph.”

“Please, Phil?” Sora asked, and tried giving him the eyes that always worked on Riku when he wanted his way. “I don’t want you to be mad at me. I promise, when Riku and Kairi get back, we’ll come visit, okay? Make a day of it.”

Phil gave him a hard stare, but then he sighed expressively, and rolled his eyes. “You heroes, too soft for your own good. C’mere, kid.” Sora grinned, and bent down so that Phil could ruffle his hair. “But you’d better make good on that promise, got me? And watch out, you don’t have any spirits of heroes long past to help you, or even a sidekick or two. You keep that mission _recon_. Hades seems to be in far too good a mood, lately. It makes me nervous.”

Sora nodded, and patted Phil enthusiastically on the back. “Got it, Trainer. Is the door to the Underworld still where we sealed it?”

“Yep,” Phil said, and shook himself out, straightened his shoulders, and tugged on his goatee. “How do I look?”

“Great,” said Sora, smiling. 

“Hmph,” Phil murmured. “Was there any doubt. And you, hero-boy.” The look Phil gave him cut deep, and Sora leaned in, wiped most of his laughter from his mouth, and listened. “Keep this in mind: Even if they don’t keep it clean, _you’d_ better keep it clean.” He paused, and then quickly added, “Well, I mean. Not at the cost of your life. Okay, Sora?”

“Gotcha, Phil.” Sora straightened, and waved. “I hope your Tournament is awesome! I’ll see you later!” 

*

The seal Kairi’d put on the entrance to the Underworld was a beautiful, warm lock, and Sora enjoyed the feel of it until he had to break it beneath his own will. Even for him, Kairi’d made sure that it wasn’t a pleasant experience. A little taster to what was ahead.

Sora wished he’d listened to that warning better. “It _seemed_ like a good idea at the time,” he told Roxas, who was a prickly point of agitation in the back of his mind, melding into his own emotions. “Let’s see, we took the Lost Road…and, uh, that’s probably where we messed up. _Damn_.”

Sora put his hands on his hips, and glared around at the dank caverns. He was still a little shaky after that first fall through the mists of the dead, into the Underground Caverns. There weren’t that many Heartless here, at least, because their diet wouldn’t have been a healthy one. No light, and certainly no hearts. A small blessing amidst a lot of annoyances.

“What if we head back, and take a left…”

“Huh. I guess they don’t build heroes the way they used to. I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever get the hint and show up. And then you go and get _lost_.” Sora stiffened, and then turned on his heel to fix Hades with a nasty look. 

“That’s _creepy_ ,” he told the god. “Don’t sneak _up_ on people, jeez.”

Hades’ grin just widened, a menacing, vicious, skull-like smile. The flames on his head were a happy blue, and more of an indication to how much trouble Sora was in than anything. “Oh, but don’t you like surprises? Because I have _plenty_ in store for you.”

“Uh…” Sora squinted at Hades, and decided that he was completely freaked out. “I’ll pass, but thanks!” Turning, Sora was ready to run for it – it really was just a recon mission, he could afford to turn tail – but Hades did that creepy, smoky, disappear-reappear in a pop of smoke thing, and he had Sora by the shoulder instantly. His fingers felt like a skeleton’s, and they dug in so hard Sora felt the bruises form deep down.

“Not so fast, my friend,” Hades said sweetly. “You’ve only just arrived. Why don’t you…stay for a spell, hm? It gets so lonely, down here, and, oh yes, I know! You probably want to see your friends, right? From Halloweentown?” His smile was as sharp as a reaper’s scythe, and Sora glared for all he was worth. Roxas’ anger was his anger, now, entirely. 

Sora snapped. “What are you doing to them?” 

“Oh,” Hades said nonchalantly. With his other hand, he buffed his nails on his dark robes. “Just tormenting them. You know the drill, eternal pain and suffering, yadda yadda.”

“Fuck you.” Sora jerked away from Hades’ grip, even though he almost dislocated his shoulder doing it. He turned and faced down Hades, toe to toe; his face was red, and he wished he could just beat Hades up and be done with it. “Give them back!”

“Mm, no.” Hades laughed at whatever expression Sora was wearing, and even though they were almost the same height by then, Sora felt about three inches high. It made him even angrier. “What? You really think I can just give them back to you? That’s not the way it works, chump.”

“Oh?” Sora said. He remembered Phil’s words, but asked, “And how does it work down here?”

Hades dipped his head down, and smiled, sinister and pleased. “It’s really very simple,” he said, spreading his hands as if to demonstrate. “A trade is the most commonplace, but you hear about the hand of fate and luck more often, and since I like you, kid, well. How about a bet?”

This did not sound good. Roxas, who didn’t need to speak as much as he used to in order to be heard, said, _Kill him_ , but it was almost impossible to kill a god, and Sora figured there’d be something that happened, like the universe being thrown out of whack, and he’d really not like having to deal with that if it did occur. 

So he said, “What kind of bet?” and his fate was practically signed, sealed, and stamped on the spot.

*

When Cid didn’t get word back from Sora - not even via text on his PHS - after four days, he knew he’d been right. He growled, put on tea, and then proceeded to chain smoke until Kairi and Riku came home. When there was no Sora, they’d know to go to Headquarters, and then Cid could send them on their way, after that god-damned fool of a boy. 

*

“Yep,” Kairi said, eyeing her lover’s handiwork. “He definitely went this way. Thanks, Phil.”

“Hmph,” Phil grunted, looking worried. “You sure you’ll be all right, lass? I haven’t seen your other brat, yet.”

Kairi smiled, and laughed a little, and very carefully did not tell Phil that Riku wasn’t likely to come through this way. There were plenty of options for a keyblade wielder, especially one who didn’t feel like getting bitched out by a satyr that came up to his kneecap.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “He’ll be fine. And so will I! Cloud’s going to keep me company, since he was kind enough to offer.”

Phil bristled, and glared at Cloud, who had been standing unobtrusively in the back. He gave a quiet sigh, now, at being noticed. “I remember you,” Phil said sourly. “You would know your way around, wouldn’t you?”

“Seems that way,” Cloud murmured. Kairi could just barely see his bright gaze over the high red collar of his cloak.

“Hmph!”

“Right.” Kairi coughed, blushing slightly at how awkward all this was. “Thanks again for all your help, Phil. We’ll be fine, okay? See you soon!” Then she grabbed Cloud by his cloak, and started off, dashing quickly into the roiling black subspace that, once past the slime and skin prickling madness of Hades’ particular brand of oily darkness, led down the narrow staircase to the Underworld’s entrance.

An Underworld that needed housecleaning something fierce, ugh. Kairi wrinkled her nose in disgust, trekking quickly down the long flight of stairs, before realizing that not everyone was alive down there, and maybe they wouldn’t like the reminder of what a dump their eternal resting place was. She straightened her corset shirt, and cleared her throat, and did her best to keep her face pleasant, and empty of any misgivings.

She lasted nearly a minute, and then she had to ask. “It is _supposed_ to smell like that?”

“…Like rotting flesh and sewer?” Cloud murmured from behind his high collar. Flicking a wry, commiserating glance at Kairi, he said, “Unfortunately. And try not to touch the walls. They puss, on occasion.”

“Oh. _Gross_.”

*

Riku stepped onto the little blue-green demon getting out of his boat. He flipped a coin at the driver, who moved with an odd, segmented kind of grace, making a sound like popping bones. Riku thought he saw a hint of dried skull and fossilized teeth chattering beneath its hood in thanks, before it pushed off from the ledge and was gone, trailing mists and spookiness. 

“I really hate it here,” Riku sighed, and drove his heel into Hades’ lackey for good measure. “Now where’s the sign up?”

The creature – Pain? Torment? Riku couldn’t remember to save his life, and didn’t really care to try. Snot was as good a name as any – snapped itself back into its proper shape with a miserable groan, and flashed sharp teeth at him. “Stupid brat,” it whined, and Riku automatically punted it against a pillar.

“What was that?” he snapped.

“I mean…” Snotface wheezed, and scuttled. “Oh, most exalted wicked one, how may I help you?”

Riku arched an eyebrow. “That was pathetic. You should put more feeling into it. Your groveling isn’t quite realistic, and your choice of titles is, in a word, fucking _lame_.”

“…That’s two words.”

“Whatever.” Riku rolled his eyes. He had bigger fish to fry, anyway. “Just point me to the register, man.”

Snotface’s eyes bulged, and it’s strange, vicious hoarse-squeak of a voice tumbled all over itself in its urge to counteract that statement. “The- Register? No. No, no, don’t be stupid, you- Oh, most exalted, you don’t..no, no bad idea, bad bad bad idea, take my word for it!” Its eyes gleamed, and it gave a sneaky smile. “Besides, you’re too young to register.”

“Like hell,” Riku snorted. “I’m drinking age next month.”

With a haughty sniff, Snotface corrected him. “You must be _two centuries dead_ , at least.”

For a long moment, Riku just kind of stared at the little demon, and then his arm exploded into a miniature tornado of dark tentacles that coalesced into armor all the way down from his shoulder, ending at his knuckles so that Riku could feel the minute tremors his keyblade made that he otherwise may have missed behind leather gloves.

“…what was that.”

Snotfaced squeaked, and tried to back peddle very quickly into the dark. Rather conveniently, it stumbled straight into someone’s heavy boots. When it tumbled back closer to the sickly light near Riku, Riku could see indentations from several boot buckles. He had to stifle a snicker, so he could focus on the newcomers instead.

“Who the fuck ar-”

“Well, hello to you, too, Riku.”

Riku shut up, very quickly, and narrowed his eyes. He knew that voice; it was a voice that sent his pulse racing, and his stomach fluttering, and made his entire being sit up and take notice and hope he was right. But he was in hell, and they lied by default, here. He drawled, “Kairi? That better be you.”

Her laughter reached him first, bright and airy even in the nasty gloom of the Underworld. Then she came forward in the dusty light, her smiling face open, free of her hair, her eyes steady and eager. Riku didn’t quite let his armor go, and, as always, reveled when Kairi didn’t so much as bat an eye at it; she just _accepted_. 

A few feet away, Kairi paused, and the two took a lazy moment to size each other up with wry amusement; then they broke into easy grins, and Riku wished Sora were there, because he would have said something like, “Fancy meeting you here, pretty lady,” as if he was an old style cowboy from one of the westerns they used to watch back on the Island.

Instead, Riku just said, “You finished whatever you and Belle were worried about early, then? I thought it was going to take an extra week.”

Kairi shrugged, her movements fluid. That was when Riku took notice of the slightly taller, darker presence of the blonde man who came up beside her. Riku narrowed his eyes to a cat-likeness and stared. “Yeah, I finished it.” Kairi said, not smug, though she was proud. “It was a good warm up.”

That drew Riku back to Kairi, though, and he smirked at her, tilted his chin in invitation. “Care to dance with me, then?” He tried not to be smug about the way she lit up at the suggestion, but it was too much effort. He positively basked in it, instead.

“Of course!”

A polite cough from the man beside Kairi drew Riku’s eyebrows down again, and settled his mouth into a sneer. “What?” The blonde in the red cape pointed, and Riku blinked, before springing forward easily. “I don’t think so. You still need to give us directions.”

“Please,” Kairi interjected firmly, fists on her hips, though she didn’t protest the rough treatment Riku was giving Snotface, at the very least.

Snotface wailed dismally, and Riku took it as a resounding victory.

*

Hades’ chamber was _not_ a very interesting place to be held hostage in. He could just see the sickly green of the Valley of the Dead down the dark staircase that lead to it, and out the windows…Sora really, really didn’t like that view. At all.

Besides that there was the table, with all the objects that shifted and moved whenever Sora glanced at it sideways. It made him sick to look at it for too long, though, and it was more fun to take down the old, heavy silk drapery that Hades had surrounded his throne in to make a pallet on that damned table with instead. 

For the most part Sora slept, exercised, or otherwise sang, very loudly, and very off key. 

Hades only came in long enough to offer Sora food with a mocking grin, and belittle him in a variety of ways. Sora was keeping count of each of their individual victories: seven times Sora had been left fuming, and with nothing to divert his anger at; five times Sora had sent Hades from his private chambers, furious and with his flame as red as a cherry.

Sora always threw the food out one of the windows, being very careful not to look out clearly and watch the souls being tormented. It was a good thing, he decided, that you were never very hungry in the Underworld. Even less so, when half your soul was missing.

Those days were the most uncomfortable of Sora’s entire life. He didn’t know how he could have stood it when he was young, when he hadn’t even realized he’d lost Roxas. Had he known himself so little? Really? Sora made a face as he realized how unbelievably lucky they had all been.

_“I’ll just hold this portion as a safeguard, hm?”_ Hades had told him. _“Not that I’d ever think you would cheat, Sora, but, well. Never hurts to be careful right? Well…never hurts me. This is going to hurt you quite a bit, actually.”_

There was a barrier thrown up at the door out of Hades’ chamber, but Sora was pretty certain that he’d be able to make it out, anyway. He still had all of his ability, he just wasn’t at full power, was the way he figured it, lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. His soul was still there – _Roxas,_ he whispered, _Roxas, Roxas, I’m not whole without you, damn it_ – just disconnected, trapped, like Hades had once trapped Auron and Meg. 

_“Fuck, Hades,”_ Sora had snapped at him, after he’d stopped screaming. Sweat trickled into his eyes, made his hair stick to his face, and he glared, with dulled eyes and a furious, panting scowl, as best he could. _“A bet’s a fucking bet. It’s not like I can get out of this by running!”_

And he couldn’t. Sora didn’t see a way out of getting his soul back from Hades. But Hades was sadistic, and probably bored, and just a plain old mean bastard, so he’d torn it in two, and told Sora, _“Just think of it like a stroll down memory lane!”_

It had been easiest for Hades to take the chunk of Sora that had already been taken away once before; that was still knitting itself back into the whole. “Damn it,” Sora muttered; lately, the monotony had changed: his heart had been aching with the sweetest ache he knew, for a while now. He needed to think up a plan; he had to. “Hang tight Riku, Kairi. I’ll get out of here, I promise. Meet you guys half way, or something.”

He sighed, and started working on that plan. It wasn’t like he had anything else to do.

*

There wasn’t a lot to do when you were dead, and Kairi had heard from very reliable sources that Hades’ humor was really only entertaining to _him_ , so she wasn’t very surprised to find the locker rooms packed. There were two doors, one designating female entries, the other, male, and their small group paused in indecision before them.

“…I’ll be fine,” Kairi said.

“Well yes,” Riku gave her a slanted look, and a bare curve of a smile. “Still.”

Behind, and to Kairi’s right, stood Cloud. He shifted, the folds of his long red cloak moving in a near silent hiss-rustle-fall of frayed material. “I’ll go with Kairi.”

Well, Kairi thought, surprised. “Are you sure? I don’t know what we’ll find there. It could be pink and full of perfume.” For such a sweet offer, she couldn’t offer the silent swordsman anything less than the full truth. He gave her a wry look. 

“After Aerith, the only feminine thing that scares me is leg wax. Bring on the lace, just not the leg wax.”

For a long moment, Kairi stared, and Cloud, with his quiet, glowing eyes, met her gaze steadily, though Kairi had the sneaking suspicion that, toward the end, he was starting to blush, just a little. It was rather charming, really, and she smiled, and said, “I always thought lace was way too itchy. And it gets caught in _everything.”_

Riku gave them a slow, cautious look. “…I…think I’m going to go now.”

“All right then!” Kairi stepped close, on tiptoe, and brushed the soft white layers of Riku’s hair from his pale, smooth cheek. The kiss was quick, but firm, and both their eyes shone. “I’ll see you soon.”

*

Soon, Riku realized, meant when Namine had cleaned out the entire slew of female contestants, and made her quiet, pale way over to the men’s locker room, Cloud an equally quiet, forbidding presence just behind her. 

“Yo,” Riku said, giving Namine a puzzled look. She looked down demurely, before looking back up with a smile. 

“Hello, Riku. How have you been?”

“Well enough.” Riku slanted a glance at Cloud, as if the other man would tell him anything. He didn’t, of course, just raised one eyebrow and shrugged. “Er. And you?”

At that, Namine blushed, and bit her lip. She wore a white version of what Kairi wore, low slung cargo pants and a spaghetti strap shirt. On Kairi it looked natural, comfortable; Kairi wore the bare arms and slice of hip and stomach, not like she was on display, but like she just wanted to feel good. On Namine it made her look a touch too vulnerable, and Riku took off his jacket, and laid it around her shoulders.

“Uh. T-thank you.” She tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear, and then looked back at Cloud, and giggled. “I’m fine,” she finally responded. “And, um. I’m having fun.” She looked back, blue eyes pure and, for once, impish. It was a Kairi look, and Riku found himself transfixed, for a moment. 

“Having fun doing _what_?” All Riku had been doing was sulking in a corner, silently daring someone to start something just so he could have something to do. “They’re all stiffs. I think they forgot how to have fun.”

“Ah,” Namine said quietly, raising one pale finger teasingly, like she had a secret to tell. “But they haven’t forgotten how to gamble. Just how to gamble _well.”_

That…would take a moment to process, actually.

“What.”

Lightly, Namine shrugged, and then slid carefully out of Riku’s warm, if slightly beaten up, jacket, smoothing the material down as she gave it back to him. “Thank you again, Riku. But I still have games to play.”

“Games.” Riku’s voice was faint, and it felt sort of like his eyebrows were going to crawl off his face and commit suicide. Cloud shifted, and Riku realized that he’d been keeping Namine mostly out of the rest of the locker room’s line of sight, protecting them in their little corner. Riku swallowed his surprise, and gave the other man a bored look, saying, “Kairi is crap at card games.”

Namine’s eyes lowered again, and that soft, not quite sad, smile reappeared. “Once upon a time, in a great white castle,” she said softly, “when there wasn’t anything else to do, the Gambler of Fate would teach the caged bird a few tricks.” She fiddled with the long fall of her moonlight pale hair, and added, “Luxord was interesting. And his Gamblers were really very sweet. They used to have tickle fights with me.” She paused, and something flashed across her face like she was uncertain whether or not she needed to explain herself further. And then she settled her shoulders back, and met Riku’s stare directly with a smile, and reaffirmed, “I’m having fun.”

“All right,” said Riku easily enough. “Any particular reason why _now_ , though?”

Namine gestured immediately up above him, and Riku turned, looking up to see what she was pointing at. It was a big, black, scrollwork banner, which read: 

**Kingdom Cup  
100 Levels  
Final Contestant: A Surprise!  
Prize: One (1) Keyblade Master’s Soul**

There was a design beneath it that, at first, Riku thought was a skull and crossbones. He looked closer, however, and saw that it was a dented crown, crossed with two battered keyblades. 

“Stupid fucker,” Riku muttered, and then shifted onto his hip to give Namine a lazily vicious look. “I hope you take the house, babe.”

Kairi’s grins were blinding, like Sora’s, and the best thing Riku could liken them to was looking directly at the sun, all that bright joy and fierce light just rolling off of them; with Namine, it was a little different, less like the sun, and more like the moon. But it was getting brighter, Riku noted, watching as she stepped into the great crowd of male contestants, heading unerringly towards a makeshift card table, Cloud following her closely.

_Good,_ he thought. _That’s how it should be the longer they’re assimilated._

Quickly, Riku lost sight of her behind all of the much taller backs gathering to watch. But that was okay; she’d be fine, just fine. Humming slightly, in a much better mood, Riku reached inside himself with a mental hook, and swirled up some magic. The banner above him crackled in a very tightly controlled roll of black fire, and the ashes fell down around Riku like falling snow.

*

Eventually the tournament actually began, and Namine faded back into Kairi with a last sweet smile at the poor lost soul she’d just beaten for the third time in a row with a Full House spread across the table in front of her. Kairi stood up, and stretched, like she’d just woken from a nap. Her eyes shone, and the smile was transformed into a grin that was equal parts excitement and ferocity. 

“What Level number are we starting off at?” she asked, after making her way easily through the crowd. Cloud looked up at the charred spot where the banner had once been, and in his voice was a curl of dark amusement, as he said, “Seven.”

“Perfect,” Kairi said. “We need to warm up, anyway.”

Riku, who had been eyeing the competition since he first walked through the door, snorted. “Better make it quick. I doubt it will take long to get to us.”

*

It didn’t take long at all, in fact, and then the three of them were there, in Hades’ bastardized version of the Coliseum. “Well,” Kairi murmured quietly, standing back to back with Riku, looking up at the dark, jeering, unfortunate spectators. “This is charming.” 

Riku laughed, softly. “Yeah. Really puts you in a mood, doesn’t it?” Which could have been taken several ways, Kairi quickly decided. She stepped back, aiming to lean against Riku’s solid bulk for one quick moment. But something squished beneath her shoe; she lifted it, to see what she’d stepped on, and was suddenly glad she hadn’t eaten lunch earlier. “Oh, _hell_ that’s disgusting.” 

“What?” Kairi felt Riku look down, and pause. Then he snickered, “It’s all fun and games until-”

“Oh, shut up,” Kairi moaned. She wasn’t sure if she should put her foot down and scrape it off the bottom of her heel, or if she should just hope that it would fall and splatter- _okay, you know what? Nevermind._ She scraped it off on the broken marble tile of the arena.

And that was when the first wave of their fight began. Cloud noticed their opponents first, the slinking, scale like creatures slithering up towards them with red eyes. He went from quiet and patient, to a throbbing, menacing force, all high tuned power and huge, shining sword, with the ability to use it.

“Wow,” Kairi muttered, and then laughed when Riku said, “Yeah? Well watch this,” and busted out his keyblade with more flourish and fanfare than Kairi was used to seeing from him.

Her own weapon came forth in a burst of sweet light, and the scent of spring. She fitted her fingers around the hilt, the weight comfortable in her grip, and shifted into a ready position; said, “Oh, don’t be so jealous, Riku.”

“What? I’m not- Hey!”

Kairi, already hip deep in monsters, laughed in response, keyblade singing pure and clear with the thrill of battle.

*

“So you’re the soul?”

Sora jerked upright from where he’d been lightly dozing. He almost toppled off the desk, so instead he threw himself over it, rolled into a nice landing on the other side, away from the voice. He didn’t recognize it.

“Uh…who are you?” Sora peeked over the edge of the desk, and frowned, before yawning. “You’re another god, right? Sweet, you’re glowing like Hercules did, when we fought in the match!”

The other figure – a god, presumably – arched one thick black eyebrow, and did not smile. He stood with easy confidence, and wore nothing but leather and shiny plating. Sora tilted his head at the amount of thigh being shown off, and thought, _Damn. I wonder what I’d have to sell to see Riku or Kairi in that get up._

“Hercules,” the god said, in a low rumble, “A decent opponent.” Sora shivered to hear the other man speak. No matter how calm and bland his voice may have sounded on the surface, underneath it was all potential violence, the bloody kind. 

“Hey,” Sora objected. “Hercules isn’t just a decent opponent, he’s a great opponent. A true hero! And he nearly kicked my butt off-world.”

The god’s black eyes narrowed, and the expression on his broad, rugged face read as mildly perplexed. “But he didn’t.”

“Er. No. I beat him,” Sora grinned. “Fair and square. And with a lot of luck and desperation.”

“Desperation?”

“Yes,” Sora said, serious for a moment. “I needed to beat him. Had to. I had to see if I could be a hero. And I _had_ to be a hero.” As he watched this god who’d appeared without warning in Hades’ private chambers, who smelled of violence, Sora was struck by the expression in his eyes. He looked like a child, uncomprehending.

“I had people I needed to save,” Sora clarified gently. He smiled, and stood up, and asked once more, “Who are you, what’s your name? And why are you here, of all places? Have any good ideas for escape, maybe?”

The stranger watched him for a moment, silent and dark and glowing in the thick, acrid light of the Underworld. Sora waited, hoping that maybe this god understood, that maybe he could find a way out. It didn’t quite work the way he wanted it to.

“I am Ares,” the man said, taller than Sora’s 5’11” by nearly five inches. “The God of War. And I’m here because I’m bored. And you, boy who needed to be a hero, are my entertainment.” He paused a moment, ignoring the way Sora was staring at him, flabbergasted. “Well, a part of it, at least.”

“…WHAAAT?”

*

Riku was only a little wounded; Kairi stood across from him and clutched her side, breath hitching slightly. The grin never left her face, however, and Riku laughed silently in a fierce joy to match hers. 

He asked, “Where’s Cloud?”

“Gone to find us some drinks,” she replied. They were off in the corridor, taking breaks between the lot matches. They were having to fight more and more often, now that the weaker fighters were weeded out, and didn’t bother to go much farther than the small lounge room off the main hallway from the locker rooms to the arena.

Breathing deep, Kairi started stretching, trying to keep her muscles from seizing up. “He fights well, doesn’t he?”

“Who?” Riku yanked back his hair in an irritated jerk. “Strife?”

“Yes,” Kairi smiled, trying not to wince at the burn in her legs, especially her calves. _Too much relying on High Jump, she sighed. I’ll have to do more Dodge Rolls, or something._ “Sora fought him once, didn’t he?”

“Hm. And beat him.”

“He could fly, right? Like an angel.” Riku made a noise that sounded like he was throwing up, and Kairi startled into laughter; when she stopped, and straightened, wiping tears from her eyes, he was very innocently stretching out his arms. Riku didn’t do innocent very well, and Kairi snickered helplessly once more. “Well, he _did_.”

“So what? He can’t anymore, his pact with Hades ended.” Riku sighed, and stopped even trying to stretch, a dark cloud settling over his brow. Outside, in the arena, there were the sounds of screeches and yells, flesh being battered and other things oozing. He frowned out towards it, pensive, clenching his left hand tight to his side. “He doesn’t _fit_. He fights fine, but not with _us_. It’s like…trying to dance, but always stumbling on the third step.”

Kairi let out a low sigh, letting her entire body go slack, lax; roll back into a quietness that she rarely dared to don when on a mission. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “I know what you mean, but that’s why we’re here, right?”

Watching Riku, Kairi could see right through into him, all the dark fears and worries and all that roiling anger; and at the core of it, a hard, stubborn ball of light, steady and strong and hungry for theirs, unwilling to do anything but his best. Seeing the resolve turn his face sharp and edgy and wickedly capable, Kairi felt like they could do anything.

*

Pain was Sora’s new friend, and he wished that he meant the annoying red demon. He didn’t, though, and when he hit another of those really interesting, but really painful wall statues, he choked on his scream, and his vision went blurry. When he landed on the cold, hard ground of Hades’ chamber, he coughed up blood. 

“Ow,” he muttered, and started pushing himself up onto his hands and knees.

“This is still boring,” Ares said casually. Sora jerked his head up, glaring through his bangs. The god was slumped dejectedly on Hades’ throne, not even a nick on him. _Damn_ , Sora thought. _This is so much harder than it should be_. Sora knew he was better than this; he had to have been, to have made it to twenty years old. 

Wincing, he got to his feet, tilting his chin up in defiance. He grinned, knowing it’d be bloody, and said, “You just need a better sense of humor. I know plenty of bad guys who would think beating me up is a blast.”

Ares gave him a bored look. “But I don’t know you, and all I really want is a _challenge_. You’re nothing.”

“Oh, burn,” Sora coughed. And then pushed off the wall, mostly steady on his feet. He called up his keyblades again, and wondered if he could manage Valor form, but really doubted it. He couldn’t reach the same depth of power that he normally could. He couldn’t _find_ it, though he was scratching around inside for it. It wasn’t enough, but he _needed_ it to be enough. He took a deep breath, and then started talking.

“You’re a boring son of a whore, and a lousy ass god who doesn’t know stars from your balls, let alone what a true hero is, you blood thirsty bitch, and-”

Ares’ eyes glowed when he was angry, and, just as Sora had thought, his pride was just as touchy as any macho man, despite the resume he came with. Sora braced himself, and looked for an opening, _hating_ his plan.


	2. Chapter 2

It was Cloud’s third trip back with the Potion Shakes when it happened. He was battered, and bruised, and quite possibly broken in a few places – he swore their last opponent had had fists like mythril forged hammers, the fucker, not to mention a shield that liked getting in Cloud’s way. A lot – and he’d drunk the last of their dinky potions so that he could manage to stagger his way to the refreshment stand.

Riku couldn’t walk, and Kairi was busy worrying over him, and Cloud almost wished he’d told Tifa okay, yes, you can come, but then she would have wanted to fight, and this wasn’t her battle. He loved Tifa, but _no_.

His sword made a good makeshift cane, even if it did occasionally leave gouges a foot deep in the floor. Cloud gritted his teeth, and made his unsteady way to the counter, threw down not a small amount of munny, and gritted out his order.

He turned, just in time for someone roughly the same height and body mass to slam right into him, and send him backwards into the counter edge. Hissing, his back screaming at him, Cloud started to croak something that might have been half question, but was most likely full cursing, when he heard Sora go, “Oh- _shit_. Sorry, sorry, can’t. Argh, which way is out?”

“I. Sora?” Cloud squinted at the man draped over him, and, yeah, he recognized that spiky brown hair, almost as spiky as his own blonde. They stumbled upright, hands holding onto each other and Cloud’s Buster Sword for support and help.

“Cloud?” Sora croaked, squinting. One eye was completely crusted over with blood, and he had a swollen jaw. His clothing was rent, and dark and gleaming wetly in the Underworld light in several places. He looked as bad as Cloud felt, actually.

“What are you-?”

“Excuse me sir,” said the ghoul at his back. Cloud turned around, was confronted with a sullen glare that would forever be caught in a teenager’s pimpled, if vaguely translucent and drippy, face. “Your shakes are ready.”

“Uh. Could I have one more?”

The ghoul clerk rolled his – her? – eyes, and almost lost one, but stuffed it back in grumpily. “That’ll be seventy munny, then.”

“R-right.” Cloud dished out the munny, and then realized that Sora was chattering at him, half of it lost in nonsensical mumbling. He grabbed two of the shakes, turned back to Sora, and shoved one in his old comrade’s hand. “Drink this.”

“Suuuure,” said Sora, woozily. “Whasit..”

“Straw.” Cloud coughed, and shifted gingerly. He started sucking on his, to demonstrate.

“Oh, right,” said Sora, and then he was drinking his drink, and both of them quite possibly blissed out for several moments as the green shake was consumed greedily on both of their parts. When Cloud snapped back to reality, at least, he felt like maybe he could walk without falling down, and the ghoul was tapping its bony foot, and glaring. 

“You’re holding up my line,” it snapped.

Sora blinked, and leaned over Cloud’s shoulder – yep, Cloud was right. Exact same height – and said, with a charming, slightly crazed grin, “Sorry! Thanks for the drink, though, man.”

Laughing, because that was just so Sora, Cloud grabbed the other two shakes, passed one off to Sora, and then ripped the Buster Sword out of the ground, where he had conveniently placed it. The after effects of such concentrated ingredients – especially those mega-potions, they were a doozy – would leave them a bit muggy for a while, but would clear off soon enough, thanks to the adrenaline rush of fighting. They were at least capable enough to get back to the lobby.

“You,” he prophesized, “Have a lot of explaining to do. Come on. Riku and Kairi are worried about you.”

Probably a good thing he didn’t bring Tifa, Cloud thought, because if he had, she would have fought, and there was no way she would have been willing to give up her slot for Sora, even in a situation like this. And if he had brought her, Tifa might have seen the way that Sora made his heart hurt, just a little, with how much he reminded him of Zack sometimes. And Cloud had finally learned that the past wasn’t worth ruining his future over.

Shaking his head, and smiling slightly behind his red collar, Cloud led Sora back to his own future, to Riku and Kairi, glad to be alive.

*

They were sprawled over the old, dusty chairs in the decrepit fighter’s lounge, Riku just staring blankly up at the ceiling, Kairi mumbling quietly to herself healing charms as she tried to close the gaping wound in Riku’s thigh.

It hurt like a mother fucking _bitch_ , and the concentration was making sweat roll down Kairi’s face, which was the only reason Riku allowed for why they didn’t notice them in the first place. All of a sudden there was the best sound in the world, even in a world narrowed and spiked with pain as his was, saying, “Jeez! I leave you guys alone for two weeks, and this is what happens?”

“S-Sora,” Riku choked, getting up too fast and almost having his vision go white with the pain. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he heard that lovely voice say, muffled and from far away. He thought he heard Kairi’s voice, but couldn’t quite tell; he felt their hands on him, though, Sora’s square and large, Kairi’s slender and tapered; both of them rough and capable and lovingly gentle. Riku couldn’t help it; he let himself relax into their grasp, let himself fall into that forgiving white, knowing that they would catch him.

*

“Well, hell,” Sora said, blinking in surprise. He looked over at Kairi, who was giving him a very irritated glower, and blushed. “Er. Hey! How was I supposed to know he’d be ridiculous?” He paused, and then grinned goofily, unable to stop his joy at seeing them again, “I mean. Other than the fact that he _is_ ridiculous, _all the time_.”

“Gah,” said Kairi. And then she slumped over onto him, not passed out, but breathing slowly, deeply like she couldn’t breathe him in enough, her forehead sticky and hot against his shoulder. 

Sora felt his entire face fold into a softness that he thought was probably the most grown up thing he had, in a world where he’d been fighting and surviving and killing since well before he was considered a legal adult; his heart felt too full with it, like it would grow wings and fly. “Sorry,” he whispered into Kairi’s hair, softly, keeping one hand resting on Riku’s shoulder, and using the other to stroke up and down Kairi’s arm.

“Sora.”

Blinking up at Cloud’s voice, Sora woke back to the situation at hand. “O-oh, yeah. Right. Hey, hey Kairi.” He pushed her gently up right, and grinned at her teasingly, though his brows were furrowed in concern. “Cloud bought you that shake you wanted. Drink it for me, okay?”

“Don’t.” Kairi yawned, but opened her eyes wide and reached for the drink. “Don’t act like I’m an invalid.” She settled back down with it, leaning against Riku’s hip as she started to suck on the straw, starting with small sips, and ending with great gulps. 

“Sure, thing, babe,” Sora grinned. He looked back over at Cloud, and then wound up frowning at him. “Are you still all banged up, as well? I can’t see under that red sheet of yours.”

Cloud gave him a look, and a small smile. “I’m fine, Sora. The mako in my system is good for something at least. It helps me heal faster, remember? Besides, I already had my shake, when you were drinking yours.”

“Oh, yeah. Duh,” Sora said, laughing a little at himself. Then he was tilting his head and squinting at the other fighter. “Huh. You know, actually, it’s weird seeing you in those old clothes. It’s been, what, years?”

“Mm, about seven.” Cloud shrugged, and his voice was quiet, but certain and strong, when he murmured, “It seemed poetic. To return the same outwardly, but inwardly changed.”

Sora grinned. “Whatever you say, man. I think it’s just good to see you.”

“And you,” Cloud returned, a little hesitant, but willing. Sora beamed, glad that he’d come so far since Sora had last saw him; glad that his light was showing him how to be happy again, to be human, rather than an angry obsession. Then he added, “Even if I don’t like having you fall into my arms, half dead,” which Sora, actually, could have done without having been mentioned.

“What was that?”

Sora winced, and then looked over at Kairi. “Uhhhh. You feeling better, then?”

Putting down the Shake, Kairi stared at it in adoration. “Oh, yes. Was there Ether in that, too?”

“Mm,” Cloud said, from where he was standing just off away from them. “Yes. I requested a supplement in them.”

“You’re a _prince._ ”

Very faintly, Riku protested, “Stop…flirting, damn it.” Riku was awake, and wincing up at the ceiling with a sullen look on his face. 

“Oi!” Sora looked over at Kairi in startlement. “You flirting with other men?”

“Sigh,” Kairi said. “Sigh and groan and scream. You guys are _ridiculous_.” Gently, she whacked her forehead with the palm of her hand, as if she could deny her boys’ ludicrousness through masochism. Sora watched with secret delight, and gave Cloud a mock-territorial look.

Cloud snorted, and rolled his eyes at them. “Leave me out of this.”

“Gladly,” muttered Riku, and then he rolled his head over, and his entire pale face locked onto the Shake Cloud still held in his hand. “Is that mine? Hand it over.”

“So polite,” scathed Cloud in wry amusement, though he handed the drink over readily enough, before disappearing back into the shadows of his red cloak.

“Yep,” Sora said, beaming at him. “That’s my Riku.”

“Ours,” interjected Kairi, nonchalantly buffing her nails. She gave Sora a coy look under her lashes a moment later, however, and Sora laughed, and nodded, and agreed. “Ours.”

Riku, thankfully, was too busy downing his Shake to get embarrassed and protest. In the meanwhile Kairi coughed politely and gave Cloud a half sheepish, half appealing look. The blonde snorted, and walked off, without even saying good-bye, his huge sword shining in the dim light. Just called over his shoulder, “I’d better see a trophy at Aerith’s victory party, later.”

Sora laughed, and waved at his retreating back. “Sure thing!” Kairi smiled beautifully, and said, “He’s a really nice guy. I’m glad that whole mess with his darkness blew over.”

“Yeah,” Sora said, wrinkling his nose. “That was…intense.”

Kairi giggled, and then her hand was on Sora’s cheek, and there were a few other people still in the lobby with them, but they didn’t matter, nothing mattered right then, in the face of _them_ , in the face of being together again, if not quite safe and healthy, then fully capable of fighting their way there, now. 

Sora sighed into the kiss, tasting the sweetness that was his favorite girl in the entire world, feeling the slow slide and flex of her lips against his, the hungry slip of her tongue along his own. His sigh turned, morphed into a growl, and he felt his own shiver echoed in her, as Kairi slid her hand from his cheek to his hair, tightening her fingers in his brown locks and tugging, gently.

“Hey now. I hope you didn’t forget about me,” Riku said, and Kairi laughed into Sora’s grin, and they both groped a hand out to Riku without quite stopping; instead, they shared amongst each other, trading kisses like the best potions in the world. 

“Damn,” Sora groaned when they finally pulled back. “Where’s a bed when you need one?”

Kairi snorted, and swatted him gently on the knee. “After the tournament. You still have to explain- well. _Everything_ , actually. Why the hell are you here, if we’re here to rescue you?”

Sora winced, as Riku narrowed his eyes in agreement. “Er. Funny story that,” he laughed awkwardly, before swallowing it back down with difficulty and rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Well. I. Still need help being rescued, actually?”

“Why,” Riku drawled, “am I not surprised. Aren’t you supposed to be the hero?”

Sora blushed sheepishly. “Shut up, you. This is your story as much as mine! And, hey- like you’d even be any good at being a sidekick.”

“Amen to that,” Kairi muttered in quiet amusement, while Riku smirked, and said, sassily, “That’s because I’m way too awesome to not be center stage, loser.”

“In your dreams,” Sora laughed, and poked him in the side. He yelped a moment later when Riku tackled him to the hard floor, and tickled him mercilessly. “Stop, stop,” he shrieked. “Unfair conduct! K-Kairi, help!”

Dryly, their girl said, “And why would I do that?”

“Be-because – hahaha! Oh, god, stop! – you love me?”

“Hm.” Kairi’s eyes gleamed, and a smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. They were no doubt getting strange looks from the other remaining contestants – had to have been the most life they’d seen around those parts in a long time – but Sora didn’t _care_. He was about to wet his fucking _pants_.

“Only way to get information from him,” Riku said in all seriousness, while calmly dodging a flailing limb. “Torture it out of him.”

“NOOOOOOOO! Haha- ack, no- argh, help meeeeee!”

“Do you surrender, then?” Riku asked, grinning sly and sharp and beautiful.

Sora, knowing it would mean his doom, but loving Riku acting like a dork too much to make it end, howled, “NEVER SURRENDER.”

“Well then,” Kairi said decisively, and Sora knew dread when he looked at the wicked gleam in her eyes. “You leave us with no choice.” 

“There will be no quarter,” Riku chortled with a certain degree of malicious satisfaction.

Sora’s eyes went very, very wide. “….meep!”

“Indeed,” Kairi said, and then she _attacked_ , and Sora was afraid he’d laugh himself to death beneath their loving ministrations.

*

The best thing about being tickled nearly to death was the fact that Sora got away with not telling Riku and Kairi how, exactly, he’d gotten into this particular mess and just how bad, exactly, that particular mess was.

When he got up, he winced, and was glad that he could play it off as ‘wounds’ from his session of torture. But, inside, he _hurt_. It was like a raw wound on fire in the back of his mind, reaching everywhere and nowhere, _inside_ his body so he couldn’t do anything but close his eyes and grit his teeth against it.

_Roxas_ , he spoke quietly inside his mind.

_Fuck this_ , he replied. _We’re going to fucking kill them_.

_Yes_ , Sora returned, in answer to himself. _We will._

At the very least he was whole again. Just torn, and hurting. He felt more fractured, more discordant than he had in years. It was like and unlike being at war with himself. He was Roxas and Roxas was him, but it was confusing, like having at times conflicting thoughts, or a personality that went in two ways. 

Sora sighed. _I haven’t felt this crazy in a long time._

Roxas didn’t answer, but Sora knew what he was saying, because it was his own thought, and it was, _Makes you appreciate the little things in life, doesn’t it_? Sora snorted, and grinned sheepishly at Riku when he gave him a slanted look as they strode out onto the arena. One of the refs had been in to sneer in their direction and inform them that, “If you don’t get your miserable selves onto that floor in ten seconds you’ll forfeit your miserable selves, and wouldn’t that be just like you miserable bunch of living freaks, always giving up.”

“Yes,” Riku had returned, pleasantly enough from their heap on the ground. “That _is_ simply miserable, isn’t it?”

Sora had snickered, and the ref had glowered, and Kairi had sprung up, grinning, “Yes, sir! Right there!”

Then they were off, down the corridor, laughing like children off to play, rather than soldiers off to battle. It was exhilarating, beautiful, and their voices were like music slicing through even the dead air of the Underworld. Now, coming through the entrance, Sora half expected to be blinded by sunlight, but, no, this was the Underworld, and he grinned a little, eyes quiet, because Auron had been one hell of a guy, and he still missed him. All his other friends he could go back and visit, just a quick, warp speed trip away on his gummi ship. Less than that, if he used the Doors.

Auron, though. Auron was gone; but Sora straightened under the pessimistic atmosphere, grinned hard and bright and thought, _Bring it_ , because he’d told Auron he didn’t need a Guardian, right? 

So he’d make sure that he made Auron proud, instead, wherever he was.

“Let’s go, you guys,” he said, turning so that they were back to back to back. His keyblades shimmered to life in his hands, key chains swinging, and when their contestants came, swooping through the air, Sora met them with a fierce joy at being alive, and capable, no matter how he may hurt, no matter what the future had in store for him.

*

Fighting was a lot like organized chaos. The only way they could survive it was to be systematic and aware of themselves as well as each other. Lucky for the three of them, they fit together like three pieces of a puzzle, _snick snick snick_ , into one whole that was greater than its parts.

Kairi snapped, “Riku!” and Riku ducked immediately, rolling to the left. He came up, and spun, and Kairi sliced off a wing from the creature that had been dive-bombing him. Sora took his place a moment later, he and Kairi sidestepping back to back in a seamless movement, as two monsters came at them from opposite directions. 

They dispatched them quickly, efficiently, and Sora yelled out an insult in a rich voice, the content lost in the battle, and Riku said, “Help me up!” right before he was running at them full tilt. Sora turned, and Kairi covered his back, so that he could be a springboard for Riku, sending him up, vaulting through the air, spinning with his keyblade, to completely obliterate the one-winged monster. He came back down, heavily, and Kairi blocked a blow to his head before he had his bearing straight.

“Thanks,” he grinned, and grasped her arm, pulling her back in an exchange of positions so that he could block an attack at her back with his other hand. Sora came up behind him, and Riku bent, feeling Sora’s blade whistle over his head and take the monster’s head off.

They all worked together like a well-oiled machine, flawless in a way that they hadn’t been when it was just Riku and Kairi and Cloud. 

Laughing, as Kairi spun beneath Riku’s arm to take on a fanged creature while Riku tossed a quick blizzard out the other way, she called, “You did ask me to dance, didn’t you, Riku?”

“I don’t think this is quite the tango,” Sora cackled back. He thrust, parried, and then whipped his leg back in a lightning fast kick that broke a spinal cord with a very satisfying crunch.

Riku grinned, sweat dripping into his eyes. “No. It’s better.”

And it was. It was the three of them, dancing together across the battlefield, exhilarated and alive and fully capable. “One, two, three,” Kairi called, grinning, and Riku laughed. 

“Yes!” he said. “Exactly!”

“All right,” Sora acknowledged, as he and Kairi went front to front to fire blasts of magic out away from them, and Riku knelt at their feet to fumble with the items in their inventory. “So I like this kind of dancing better than ballroom, sure. But!” He waggled his eyebrows, and Riku snorted, a thrill going through him that was like and unlike the battle entirely. “I know _another_ kind of dancing that I’d love to do to you guys.”

“Later,” Kairi grinned, flushing even then, beautiful and vibrant. “Haven’t we been over this already?”

Sora laughed. “Well, can you blame me?”

_This_ , Riku decided, with a quiet joy that belonged to two people and only them; _this is how it’s supposed to be_. He stood up, and Sora and Kairi stopped their magic, their keyblades twirling back into their hands, and they shifted, covering all their sides, moving through the battle with well-practiced steps, in beautiful, aching, three-part harmony.

_Yes._

*

There wasn’t really a moment to breathe until right before the last match. “Goodness,” Kairi gasped, leaning against a couch. “This is…wow. Shouldn’t we get a break, or something? Half time?”

“Aw, but where would be the fun in that, hm?”

That oily voice had Sora bristling instantly. “Hades. I got out of that room fair and square. Kidnapping me wasn’t a part of the deal!” Kairi blinked, and went absolutely still.

Very quietly, and very dangerously, Riku said, “Deal?”

Hades was standing in a very strategically dramatic spot, right where he was backlit from the dark purple glow of the hall entrance. He smirked, and raised his eyebrow, making a gesture of fake surprise with his hands. “Oh, ho! What’s this? The kid didn’t tell his…what are you guys? His keepers? His fuck buddies? Or just a couple more morons along for the ride?”

Kairi stood up slowly, frowning. “What-”

“Ah, well,” Hades interrupted, chuckling and walking forward, “Not that it matters. I’ve been watching you all fight, and bravo, bravo, you actually _might_ make a stand against him.”

“Might?” Riku scowled. “Maybe the lighting down here has fucked with your eyes, old man. There’s no might about it.”

“Oh, my, well, haha, aren’t you funny,” Hades’ hair turned a sudden, vivid flare of vermilion, and he sneered, flatly, “NOT.”

“EXCUSE ME,” Kairi said, determined. When everyone’s eyes were on her, she smiled grimly, and asked, “Can we get back to the matter at hand, please? What deal?”

“Oh, so polite,” Hades simpered. “What do you _think_? Sora, here, sold his soul to get his little _friends_ out of eternal torture. Oh,” he mocked, voice high and fawning over an acidic loathing, “what a _hero_.”

“Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me,” Riku said, and Kairi kind of just stared at Sora incredulously. He scrubbed at his hair sheepishly, grinning nervously and lifting a shoulder in an uncertain shrug.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time?”

“You heroes,” Hades butted in, smirking gleefully. “All the same. So easy to manipulate. Just dangle a little trauma and pain and injustice in front of you and SNAP, caught in my trap.”

“Oh, _shut up_ ,” Riku said. “I realize that you don’t have much for company here, but that’s your problem, not ours. We didn’t come down here to listen to your blathering. Set up a fucking tea party if you want people to listen to you.”

“Remodeling might help,” Kairi suggested gently. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s a little drear and macabre in here. ….and I’m sorry but it really, really smells.”

“This is nothing! You should smell his _sheets_ , god, I almost _died_ -”

“QUUUIIIIIIEEEEEET.”

Riku muttered, “Precisely,” and merely smirked when Hades glowered at him.

Hades said, very viciously, “I’ll send your remains back home, if you like. There won’t be much when Ares is through, of course, but. You know me. I’m so kind.” His eyes glittered, and he bared his teeth in a smile at Sora’s snort, “How’s that soul of yours, _Sora_? Got it all back in one piece?”

Kairi gave a soft gasp, and Riku’s darkness spread and curled and did a very malicious looking dance, his eyes never leaving Hades. Sora straightened, after a quick grimace their way. “Yes, actually,” he said, fierce and brilliant and refusing to be shoved down. “Ares was kind enough to give me a little help in getting it back.”

“Oh? Was he?”

“Yeah.” Sora grinned, and Kairi stepped closer, at his side. It didn’t matter that she kind of wanted to strangle him for whatever idiocy he’d walked straight into. It was _Sora_ , and she had his back no matter what. It really was like dancing, she decided. Even if you weren’t exactly sure where you were being led, you trusted enough to follow anyway, to work together to make it through all the steps, to the end of the dance.

And with the three of them, it would always be one hell of a dance.

“The Final Match is in ten minutes,” Hades snapped. “That should be break enough for you, doll. And here.” In a sudden zigzag of electric fire, Hades snatched an item out of the air, and chunked it at them. Riku, stepping up on Sora’s other side, snatched it from the air with a contemptuous look.

Hades gave a harsh laugh, and a wild grin. “You’ll need it.” And then he was gone.

“Well, fuck,” Riku said, immediately, smacking Sora on the back of the head. “What do we do now?”

Sora yelped, and reached up to cover the back of his head, because he was at least smart enough to know that Kairi’s fist was coming on the tail end of Riku’s. “I have no idea,” she muttered, concerned. “Sora! How do even _you_ manage to sell your soul to the devil!”

Sora ducked away, wincing, and sheepishly admitted, “Er. Well, y’see…it’s like this.”

“ _Yes_?” Riku asked, through gritted teeth.

In one long, single, dejected sigh, Sora deflated completely. “He bet me that he could make a better s’more than me! I mean really! S’mores are all sweet and good and yummy and wholesome! How was I supposed to know that they were his favorite food? And, you know,” Sora waved his hands in the air in a completely incoherent expression, “with all the fire control problems and stuff, I thought he’d burn it – poof! – just like that. And then I’d still have my soul and Jack’s people would be free. But noooooo, of course not.”

Sora pouted, and muttered, “I should have known better. Trickiest fucker I’ve ever met, damn it!”

Kairi sighed, and rubbed at her temples. “Well…there’s no use worrying about it now, I suppose. Though,” she added with a sharp look, “You’re going to owe us later. Big time.”

“Oh, yeah,” Riku muttered. “I demand a huge apology, you lame ass loser.”

Sora looked hopeful, eager. “Okay! I can do that, totally!” Then he leered cheerfully, and said, “What am I talking about? I can _definitely_ do that.”

Rolling her eyes, Kairi ignored him. It was best not to be distracted by such things at such times, after all. Clearing her throat behind a demurely placed hand, she said, “So all we have to do now is win Sora’s soul, which we knew we’d have to do in the first place.”

“Right,” Riku said. “The price listed on the banner. I just can’t believe he was so _stupid_ about it. Fair and square, bleh.”

“Um.” Sora’s hesitant voice made Kairi look up, and narrow her eyes at him. They were down to just a few minutes, now, and she couldn’t resist reaching out for their hands, feeling their warm, capable fingers wrapped around her own.

“Yeah?”

“That whole winning back my soul thing sounds _awesome_ , don’t get me wrong,” he grinned. “But, uh. If that’s a mega-elixer in your hand, Riku, we’d better damn well make use of it. And be prepared for the battle of your _life_ you guys. ‘Cause, uh. In case you didn’t know. Ares is the _god of war_. I was nearly a smear on the wall, thanks to him.”

Kairi blinked, and sighed, and silently agreed with Riku when he said: “...fuck.” 

*

“Jeez,” Riku groaned on a long, lithe stretch. Sora watched the way his shirt rode up blatantly, and just grinned sheepishly when Kairi swatted at him. “I haven’t felt this good in years, I swear.”

“Seriously.” Kairi held her own hands out in front of her, and flexed her fingers. “What did they put in that mega-elixer?”

“Oh, that? Ambrosia, probably.”

Both Riku and Kairi stopped dead in the middle of the arena, and turned to stare at him. Sora blinked at them, and took a step back, “W-what?”

“…You have _got_ to be kidding me.” Riku lifted an arm up, and sniffed at it, before putting it back down and glaring around at the audience like they were stupid for even thinking he’d do something as ridiculous as that. Kairi brought her hands up, and pressed her fingers against her temples, “Oh, god.”

“Exactly,” Riku muttered sourly, and couldn’t resist prodding at his side suspiciously, audience or no audience. “What happens if a mortal drinks it, again?”

“I have no idea,” sighed Kairi. “We’ll have to ask Hercules, when we get back.”

Finally, Sora interjected, utterly perplexed. “Wait, wait, wait, what do you mean? What’s wrong with the ambrosia stuff? It tastes kind of funny, but it fills you right up!” Kairi made a strangled noise, and Riku opened his mouth and started to say, “You’ve got to be-” incredulously, before he was interrupted by slamming into a wall.

“Riku!” Sora yelled, dashing over to him. He heard Kairi’s keyblade snick into her hand protectively, and didn’t bother trying to guard his back; just tried to make sure Riku wasn’t dead. “What the hell?”

“I think,” Kairi said, voice low and edged, “that our battle just began.”

“Then you would think right,” said a voice that Sora, no matter how long it took, doubted he would ever forget. 

Sora skidded to a stop, and was relieved to see that Riku had his eyes slitted open in a glare, his teeth gritted. He was pushing himself up, snarling curses under his breath. “Shove off,” he snapped at Sora. “It just took me by surprise. I managed to deflect most of it with my shield.”

“Good.” Sora smiled, and helped Riku up anyway. “Don’t let him do that again. It hurts like a bitch.”

“No shit.”

Kairi yelled at them, from across the arena. “A little help please- _oh FUCK_.”

Sora looked up just in time to catch Kairi with his face. 

*

It wasn’t the best battle they had ever fought, but it wasn’t a complete embarrassment, either. They were all proud of that, even while they staggered against each other, faces set determinedly through the blood. There were moments when the three of them shone as bright as stars before they fell, their weapons singing through the air, even cutting away the jeering crowd, almost to a crystal perfect silence. 

There was a moment when Ares was forced back by a combo, a burn fierce along his thigh smelling of Riku’s magic. There was a cut high up on his cheekbone, courtesy of Kairi, and several others littering his body delivered there by their uncanny teamwork. Sora grinned at him, his body close to breaking, but still going on. Even with the ambrosia, his body hadn’t ceased feeling acutely as if it had been torn apart and patched together badly.

Ares spat a mouthful of blood onto the ground, and nodded his head gravely. The look on his face was the liveliest Sora had ever seen there; his black eyes shone, and his mouth was curled into a sharp smile. He was breathing, just a little heavily, and when he spoke Sora could hear the respect lining his words, as well as the shiver of violence, that had been raging from him the entirety of the battle.

“Not bad,” the god of war said. “Are these the ones you had to save?”

“Yes,” Sora said, straightening with an effort. “Yes. They’re mine.”

Ares laughed, very softly. “A good choice, then. It will be an honor to defeat you three.”

Kairi shook her hair out behind her, ragged and torn from the battle, and smiled without humor. The light shone grimly off her keyblade, and Riku quietly passed one of their dwindling supplies of hi-potions to Sora. 

Kairi spoke for them all, and said: “Bring it.” 

*

In the end, neither Ares nor Sora, Riku, or Kairi were the victors. Neither was Hades, for that matter. The battle, when it ended, ended in a bright flash of gold, in the sound of larks singing, in the smell of the ocean breeze, and in the flutter of wings.

“ARES,” a strident voice echoed through the arena, and they were all stumped to see the god of war cringe, the battle paused instantly, almost as though they were heroes on a bad action film, and the pause button had just been mercilessly pushed. “JUST WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?”

“A-Aprhodite,” the god stammered, putting his bloody hands behind his back, like it would hide just what he’d been up to. He was staring beseechingly at a beautiful figure that now stood in the center of the arena between them. “I thought that you-”

“No,” the goddess purred in lilting, golden tones, to match the long fall of her golden hair down her half naked back. Her hands were fisted on voluptuous hips, and then she stomped up to Ares, and smacked him on the forehead, and both Sora and Riku winced in sympathy, reminded instantly of Kairi when they’d done something stupid, usually by virtue of being male.

“Ow,” Ares whined, “What did I _do_?”

“More what you didn’t do,” Aphrodite huffed, light shimmering over her perfect figure like the sun on water. She threw a glance back at Sora, Riku, and Kairi, and all three of them drew in a gasp, struck by her beauty. She dismissed them in an instant.

“It was your turn to watch Eros, remember? Just _how_ am I supposed to get ready if I can’t rely on you to watch over your own son on occasion.”

“W-what? Was that….oh.” Ares blinked, a look of horror dawning on his face. “But. What am I supposed to _do_ with him?” he asked in a furious whisper. “He likes all those hearts and love and stuff, like you. He doesn’t ever want to try and stir up any battles, or to spar with me, and- I bet he’s _gay_.”

Sora stifled a laugh, through sheer will, and had to close his eyes lest the sight of Kairi placing a quick hand over Riku’s mouth did him in. A sigh next to him made him open his eyes again, however. “They do this all the time,” said a sweet, cherubic voice. Sora looked down, and saw a young boy who wasn’t quite Kairi’s height standing there. He was naked save for a loose white wrap around his hips, and it looked more like a skirt than anything.

“They love me,” he said, his blue eyes watching them with the world-weary look of teenagers everywhere. “I know they do. But they’re so _stupid_. I wish dad would just get over it. It’s all because he saw me in mom’s heels that one time. I mean _really_.” He gave Sora a beseeching look. “Love comes in lots of different forms, for all sorts of people. Why close myself to different kinds? I mean,” he added, with a sudden, mischievous waggle of his eyebrows, “ _you_ know what I’m talking about? Right?” 

Sora said, “Er.”

Eros laughed, and the slightly gangly, adolescent wings curving from his back fluttered with it. “No worries, mom and dad are probably almost done arguing, and then you guys can get back to your own lives.” He gave them a brilliant smile, and his face was, for a moment, more beautiful than the goddess of beauty, full of love and laughter and possibilities. 

“Right,” Riku said, faintly. “We’d appreciate that, yeah.”

Hades stormed his way onto the arena then, his hair flickering wildly, eyes snapping. “Aphrodite, darling, what a surprise! Just _what_ do you think you’re doing?”

“I,” Aphrodite said, giving Hades a heavy lidded look of disgust, “am going to tell Persephone on you.”

Very faintly, Sora said, “I am so confused. I’ve never seen Hades look so pale in my life.”

“This is ridiculous,” Kairi muttered, her eyebrow twitching as she watched what had been a chaos she understood unravel into a decidedly different kind of chaos. She walked a few steps closer, head up, shoulders back, and said, “Excuse me. But we were in the middle of a battle to take back Sora’s soul. Am I right in assuming that Ares is forfeiting?”

Hades and Ares both opened their mouths as though to say something, but Aphrodite turned on one perfect, sandaled heel to face Kairi. “Yes, actually. That is it, _exactly_.”

“Oh, good,” Kairi said, smiling at Aphrodite. “And I have to say, I _love_ your dress. It almost matches how beautiful your eyes are.”

“Um.” Riku muttered to Sora on the sidelines. “Did our girlfriend just turn lesbian on us?”

“Shhh,” Sora muttered back. “Maybe they’ll kiss.”

They didn’t kiss. Instead, Aphrodite gifted Kairi with an approving smile, and a pat on her shoulder. “I like you,” she purred. “You though,” she countered, turning on Hades, “I don’t like. The atmosphere down here does nothing at all for my complexion.”

“ _So_ sorry,” Hades sneered, still looking abnormally pale. “But I hope you realize that as you just, in effect, defeated Ares,” Hades threw a hateful look at the other god, who shrugged and gave a ‘what would _you_ do?’ kind of look back, “it’s now _your_ turn to fight the mortals. Because you just won, and I doubt they’ll let it go without a fight.” He gave a wicked smile. “I hope you break a nail.”

Aphrodite gave a disdainful sniff. “And what, pray tell, would I be winning, even if I did defeat them?” She gave Riku and Sora a speculative look, and they both gulped, and took a careful step back. 

Eros sighed morosely beside them, and whined, very faintly. “ _Mom_.”

“I was just _looking_ ,” she purred back, and winked at Riku. 

“Sora’s soul,” Kairi said, stepping up in front of where Aphrodite was gazing. “And none of that. I don’t care if you are a goddess. They’re _mine_.”

Aphrodite gave Kairi another look, and then laughed, patting her on the shoulder again. “No need to worry, dear. What would _I_ want with a soul? If it was a heart, maybe,” she gave Kairi a slow, simmering look. “You should be careful how you talk to a goddess, mortal. You don’t want to make me competitive.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Good then.” Aphrodite looked over to Hades, and shrugged one beautifully curved shoulder. “I forfeit. They win. Give the lad back his soul and let the mortals go. And as for _you_ ,” she turned back to Ares, and went to take him by the arm before she stopped. “You are showering, and then you are watching our son. Got it?”

“Yes, dear,” Ares sighed, and left, Aphrodite and Eros following quickly behind. Eros gave them one last wave, and a wink that made Sora squint his eyes in suspicion. It had been far too happy.

Then Riku said, “Well? What are you waiting for? You heard the woman. Give Sora back his soul, unless you want us talking to…what was her name? _Persephone._ ”

Hades looked like he was getting a migraine. “I hate you all.”

*

It was quick, and confusing, and weird. Sora had his soul back settled inside of him, without any tethers linking it outward, or the heavy, hunted feel of someone else’s power lying over it. It was almost enough to make him giddy as they stumbled back out of the arena, into the lobby. Cloud was there, eyebrows raised, a small army of shakes at his side. He took one look at them, smiled faintly, and said, “Drink up, and then go home.”

“Yeah,” Sora smiled back. “Sounds like a good idea.”

Riku called up a door, and Kairi gave Cloud a hug while Sora opened it, and then all three were stepping carefully through, being sure to close it tightly behind them. Cloud had assured them that he could find his own way home, thank you.

Unfortunately, the weirdness wasn’t over, yet. 

“What. The. Fuck.” 

“Um,” Sora said, in response to Riku. “I have…no idea.” 

Their apartment had been remodeled while they were away. There were candles everywhere, and a shag carpet instead of the cheap linoleum. Gauze curtains hung from their many windows, showing the island night outside, and the light breeze blowing in made the flames flicker, so that the shadows inside danced. Kairi was following the trail of rose petals left on the ground, stepping warily around silk pillows, into their bedroom.

Sora and Riku quickly followed her in, and stopped behind her to stare stupidly at their bed. It had never been small, couldn’t have been small with the three of them – Sora slept _everywhere_ , which made up for Riku sleeping in a ball and taking up barely a corner of the bed; Kairi just slept like a normal person, thankfully – but now it was huge.

Blushing, Kairi said, “It looks like it came from a porno.”

Sora laughed, and wasn’t quite startled to realize that his voice had gone huskier at that suggestion. “You’re right,” he said, looking around. Their mirror was polished, and they had a large, black lacquer dresser now, which explained why clothing wasn’t strewn everywhere. Instead those pillows as well as fur blankets were everywhere, spilling off the big bed. On the dresser were a few items, which Riku had gone over to, and was staring at, back stiff.

“Hm,” Sora said, because that wasn’t an offended stiff, or an angry stiff. Kairi was still staring at the bed, but Sora poked her until she looked over too, and then her head cocked to the side, and she gave Sora a look through her lashes. “Riku,” she said, “What do you have there?”

There was a long pause, and Sora and Kairi held their breaths. Then Riku sighed, body going languid and anticipatory, and said, “Why don’t you come see?”

So they did, eager, because they were pretty sure whom this was from, and Sora was pretty certain he knew what that wink from Eros had been about, now. They were still tired – exhausted, really – but it had been a long time, and their wounds were all healed, thanks to Cloud’s shakes. They needed proper showers, but Kairi had dowsed them all with an impromptu water spell, and then an aeroga, lest they track blood all over their hallways.

Kairi pressed into Riku’s side, and Sora plastered himself against his back, and they all three looked down.

“…he is way too young to know about these kinds of things,” Kairi muttered, eyes wide. She reached down, picked up one toy, and blushed. She didn’t put it down, though, and met Sora’s eyes curiously. Sora grinned, feeling his heart rate pick up, and his cock harden.

“Agreed,” Riku said, clearing his throat and shifting. Sora gasped, when he pressed backward into him accidentally, and Riku shivered. 

“But I think,” Kairi said, putting the toy down, and picking up another. “We might be a little too tired to try all of these right now. And…” she smiled, tapping the cuff with her finger, and catching it as it fell open, easily, “I think we might all be a little too…impatient.”

“Some more than others,” Riku said with a smirk, rubbing teasingly against Sora. 

Sora laughed. “Guilty as charged.” He ran his hands over them both, taking arms, drawing them backwards. “Come on, you guys. I’ve been through a horrible ordeal. You should kiss me better.”

Kairi snorted, and dangled the cuffs in front of him. “Now, now, what about our apology, hm? Time to pay up, boy wonder.”

Sora grinned, and opened his mouth to respond, but Riku cut him off with a kiss, hungry and deep and searing. Sora moaned, moving one hand to press against Riku’s back tighter, shivering at the wet heat of Riku’s tongue sliding along his. Kairi made a hungry noise, and they broke apart, not quite panting. 

“Impatient,” Kairi chided, and Riku gave her a smug, unapologetic look.

Sora laughed again, and held out his wrists. “Now, now,” he teased. “There’s plenty of me to go around.” He grinned helplessly, knowing he looked and sounded like a dork, but unable to care. He sat down on the bed, and raised hopeful eyes at Kairi. “You may take your justice from my body, if you like.”

“Well, if you insist.”

The cuffs were leather, and smooth on his wrists. Not uncomfortable, except for a moment when something inside him twisted in desperation to escape captivity, of which he had already suffered quite enough of. But then he looked up, into loving eyes, and he felt himself relax into a peaceful acceptance, and smiled. 

This was a lock he could open easily, and more importantly, a lock he trusted Riku and Kairi to, so that he knew he would never even have need of the key. He was safe here, with them, a willing, beloved captive. He sank back into the covers, arching as Kairi ran her nails lightly across his skin beneath his shirt, as Riku pressed tender kisses to his neck. 

His fingers twitched with the want to touch them, with the need to hold them closely. The handcuffs held him, though, and he let himself surrender to their touch, to their mouths, to their greedy, uplifting love, hungry for him and for each other.

*

It was always hard to remember who had what on, if just because they were always too distracted by each other to know whose hands were taking off whose clothing. But eventually they were all naked, and it was all pretty glorious, if confusing.

“So,” Sora panted, as Riku sat behind him, mouthing along his shoulders and grinding against him, “do I get to take these cuffs off any time soon?”

Kairi came up from her lazy rendition of a blowjob, blowing on the wet head of Sora’s cock so that Sora shivered and whimpered. She smiled, and said, “What do you think, Riku?”

Against Sora’s neck, Riku raked his teeth, and then huffed a laugh into Sora’s ear. “Not a chance.”

“Argh,” Sora said, before his eyes rolled back and he groaned at the suction, and the friction behind him. His body was pulsing, throbbing, and he wanted relief. “C’mon, guys,” he whined. “This is just _mean_.”

Kairi ignored him for a good minute, working him up, and then tapering off so that he never quite fell over the edge. Riku was wriggling around to the front, smirking through his flush, and teasing through his panting. “No, _this_ is mean,” he said, because then Sora was hissing as Kairi slid off of him, and pulled Riku to her, as Riku let out a trembling sigh and relaxed into Kairi’s grasp, eyes dark and hot and dangerous and needfully hungry for them, for their love and possession and acceptance. 

“Yes,” Sora rasped, as Kairi dug out their lube from the covers, slicked her fingers smooth and cool and wet, and then dipped them down, and into Riku. Riku choked on a breath, an expression of focused rapture on his face as he arched and tilted into her fingers, stretching him open.

“Beautiful,” Kairi breathed, pressing her lips tenderly to whatever pale, sweaty skin she could reach. She used her other to help Riku straddle Sora’s thighs, her gray-violet eyes almost totally black, half hidden behind the mused fall of her ragged hair. She’d have to cut it again, back short like when they were little. Sora gasped, stricken, for a moment, with how much he loved them.

“Thank you,” he said thickly, “thank you for coming for me.”

Riku pried an eye open, to fix him with a lazy, half-delirious look while he grinded mindlessly back onto Kairi’s hand. “O-of course – _hn_ – of course we did. You d-ah!”

“Dumb ass,” Kairi finished, grinning, pulling her fingers out with a slick pop and a keen from Riku. Then she guided Riku forward, onto Sora’s straining dick, and it was all hot, wet, smooth warm heat tight around him, and Kairi’s hands grasping his as he tried to reach for them. Her mouth placing tender kisses on his palms as he bucked up, into Riku.

The handcuffs were gone, the lock seared open in the passion of his want, his need, to reach and touch and hold them, to ascertain that they were really, truly there, with him, loving him.

It didn’t take long, after that, before Sora crashed head first into white oblivion, shooting his load into Riku’s hungry body, crying out into Kairi’s devouring mouth, clinging to them with all he had. When he came back, he was exhausted, sore, tired and at peace. He stayed awake with an effort, clinging to it determinedly. Inside, it felt like his soul had smoothed out a little more, like the jagged edges had been tenderly realigned and soothed with that same brilliant light that suffused his being with warmth and love; with _them_ : Riku and Kairi.

Riku lay sprawled over his chest, still breathing heavily, and snoring, just faintly. Sora groaned, and shifted, and slid out, Riku making a faint disapproving noise in his sleep. Kairi smiled, and stroked white strands of his hair from his face. Sora watched them, and asked, very quietly, very seriously, “Can you die from happiness?”

It made Kairi laugh softly. She said, “If you do, don’t worry. I always keep a spare phoenix down with me.”

“Oh, good.” Sora grinned, reached out and tilted her chin up to him, until they kissed softly over Riku’s peacefully slumbering body. “He seems tired.”

“Yeah,” Kairi murmured. “I know for a fact that he didn’t sleep well with you as prisoner.” 

Sora winced. “Er. Sorry about that.”

Rolling her eyes, Kairi said, fondly, “You knuckle head. Just. Try not to worry us like that again, okay? At least warn us before you do something so stupid.”

“Sure,” Sora laughed. “I’ll leave a memo?”

“Ridiculous.” Kairi shook her head, and then lay down, wrapping an arm over Riku so that she could grasp her hand onto Sora’s bicep. 

“Hey, wait a minute,” Sora said.

“Sleep,” said Kairi. “We’ve been through enough, and this is good. Better than good. I don’t need anything else tonight, other than the two of you in my bed, and a good long sleep, so that I can wake up to your stomach growling in the morning, and Riku complaining about bed head, okay?”

“Not a chance,” Sora replied firmly, a devious glint in his eyes. He clambered over Riku, who snorted, and rolled over onto the warm spot Sora had left. Sora sprawled comfortable over Kairi’s soft and leanly hard body, felt the strength and tension still pulsing through it, even on the verge of sleep. “I still owe you an apology remember? And I’m not going to make you wait for it.”

He slid a hand down, between her legs, felt her wet and hot and throbbing, and grinned sleepily, but hungrily into her beautiful face. She laughed at him, and swatted half-heartedly, the lines of her face tired, but happy, and hungry. “Well,” she said softly, winding her fingers through his spiky brown hair, “if you insist.”


End file.
